


Clearly Ambiguous

by BlackDog_66



Series: Football Translations [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, FIFA World Cup 2014, M/M, POV First Person, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog_66/pseuds/BlackDog_66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An hold can be just as amibigious as a bold remark</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clearly Ambiguous

**Author's Note:**

> This is an official translation from a German fanfiction, that has been posted here:  
> http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/53c82273000035e23ab9ea17/1/Eindeutig-Zweideutig
> 
> I have the permission from the author to translate it and to also post it here. Enjoy the story and visit the original when you understand German :) The story is completely made up and of course neither I nor the original author own any of the people or make any money with this.

* * *

  


It’s late, really late. The hotel lobby is practically deserted; only the receptionists are on duty, surviving on coffee to make it through their nightshift. I quickly cross over the gleaming tiles of the foyer and, looking through the panorama windows, can see the rocks on the beach which are brightly illuminated by four stars. Involuntarily I need to smile again and my eyes land on the trophy in my right hand. It’s not the world cup, but instead Manu’s Golden Glove award. The man in question had taken took off with the world cup a few minutes ago. The cup had been passed around all evening, after Bastian had taken it up to his room, Sami had brought it back to the party and then Manu had parted from the revelers exclaiming that now it was Julian’s and Christoph’s turn. Like many before him, Manu had disappeared in the lift, only that he had neglected his own trophy. 

The very same that I am now holding in my hand. While I wait for the lift to arrive, I place my palm against the golden surface of the glove. Smirking, I can’t help but clap with both my ‘hands’ and then have to laugh about myself. With a ‘bing’ the lift doors open and, when I look up, can’t help but marvel at the coincidence. Because it’s Manuel who is about to step out of the cabin; he stops as he sees me and a smile appears on his face.

I join him in the cabin and pat his shoulder with his trophy. “You forgot this.”

With a proud but still humble grin, he takes the trophy back. “I haven’t forgotten it. But the thought of running around with both of them just felt too pretentious.”

I lay my right hand on the back of his neck and look at him and, not just honestly, but also seriously tell him, “You were incredible in this world cup, so you can be proud of yourself. Without you, we would have never made it past the round of sixteen.”

Touched by my words, Manuel lowers his gaze and finally looks at me through his lashes. “Thank you Thomas.”

In the next moment I can feel his lips against mine – warm and sensual. We don’t have much time to enjoy the kiss however, because the lift comes to a halt at our floor. The soft lips abandon their favorite spot and cheekily form a question. “Your room or mine?”

A short laugh escapes me. “Andrè and Kevin are both still downstairs, so both of our rooms are empty.”

Manuel takes a playful glance at the golden glove before he points it at me. “C’mon Thomas, if you can catch the glove before we reach my door, you can top this time.” I grin at him with expectation gleaming in my eyes and, at the same time, I take a running start and jump to reach Manu’s raised hand. But his standing jump is just as high as mine. This is the start of a small chase along the hallway. Again and again I jump up the keeper’s long body, but every time he manages to defend the trophy.

“Don’t be such a mollycoddle, Manu,” escapes me in a slightly annoyed tone, which only causes a grin to appear on the other man’s face. Finally, I manage to reach the trophy with a risky leap, can actually feel it against the tips of my fingers, but, in the same second, Manu’s free hand wraps around my waist and holds me tight against his own body. He taps the glove against my forehead.

“You’re nuts, Thomas,” he says with a grin and lets me down to open the door to his room.

“Hey, drop it. My heads still hurts from the head butt.” I rub that spot on my forehead and try not to think about how bad Christoph must have felt after the collision.

Manu places the trophy on the chest of drawers and pulls off his shoes. As he lays down on the bed, he grasps my hand and pulls me toward him, so that I end up on my knees on the mattress. He continues backward until he’s laying on his back and it’s easy for me to crawl on top of him. I slip out of my shoes before I lay down on top of Manuel. His thighs produce an impressive amount of heat as I slip between them and his fingers too are comfortably warm as they softly rub at the right side of my forehead. “That’s where you’ve been hit, right?” he asks in a whisper.

I can’t help but chuckle as I reply. “Now you can say for sure that I’m not quite right in the head.”

Manu’s face lights up with a smile that I easily return. Before his fingers glide to the back of my neck, he caresses the scar at my brow with his fingertips. It’s an ugly wound that will always remind me of our fighting spirit in this world cup. But by now I’m almost happy that I can see this ‘souvenir’ every morning in the mirror.

Manu’s fingers are softly massaging the short hairs at the back of my neck. While I use my left hand to hold my position, the other hand moves over his shoulder, tucks at the sleeve of his white jersey. I can feel the strong muscles of his chest underneath my fingers. Sinfully I bat my lashes and look Manu directly in the eyes.

“The jersey suits you, Manu,” I smile wickedly. “Take it off.”

Still smiling himself, Manu’s raises his upper body so that I can pull off the jersey with relatively ease. And while he falls back against the sheets, I let the shirt fall on the blanket beside us. He pulls me closer again and I place my forehead against his. A shudder runs through me when I feel his warm hands against the back of my thighs. The feather light touch moves further up, slips underneath my shorts and, lastly, grasps tightly just underneath my ass checks.

I moan at the new sensation and seal his hot lips with mine; put all my lust into the kiss and become more demanding, not just for the kiss but also for Manuel’s initiative. And he doesn’t disappoint, his lips press harder against mine, deepening the kiss. But it lasts for too short a time, because his lips leave mine. “We shouldn’t risk anything, Thomas.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow, “You should have said that before you so obviously groped me like that.”

“You thought that was obvious?” Manu asks with a smirk and strengthens his grip, pinches the skin.

A short laugh escapes me before I reply, with humor still staining my voice, “That grip of my ass? That was very clear.” I lower myself back down and come very close to his lips. “But I do like that.”

One hand parts from my lower regions and finds a new home against my cheek. The thumb softly rubs my chin and Manu again creates some distance between us. “Seriously Thomas, this is too risky.“

I continue to grin at him, “Then why are you making me so horny?”

Manuel runs his hand through my hair, “Because the bedroom eyes you are so fond of aiming at me is simply breathtaking.”

This time my smile is more accepting than teasing, as I get up and grip my shoes. “When we are again playing for our club, you better make sure that we share a room during away games.” I point a threatening finger at him, which he playfully bats aside. But he does sit up and steals one last kiss.

“Don’t get caught, Thomas.”

When I get up from the bed, there is a sharp slap against my backside.

“Hey,” I gripe, although I’m anything but serious about it. As I turn around, Manuel simply raises his brows.

~*~

I return the smartphone to its original owner after I had taken a selfie with the young woman. The blue felt tip is also returned, although this one goes to a small boy, whose football I just signed and which now makes the round as the rest of my teammates sign it.

Inside the air-conditioned bus, I take a seat beside Philip, the cooler full of beer not too far away in the aisle. I haven’t been really full after the sausages earlier and decide to enjoy some liquid bread.

After Philip passes the cup to Bastian and Lukas, who make yet another picture, this time with Christoph in tow, I clink bottles with him. Just a few more minutes and the rest of the team is also  back in the bus, while I’m still talking animatedly with my seatmate.

There is a whisper in my ear and I have to smirk at the words that I just barely hear. “Well, Thomas was this hold also ambiguous?”

I turn around to face Manu, who is bend low toward me and return his grin. “Wait until we are on the plane back to Munich, then I show you just how obvious I thought it was.”

We laugh softly and, although we are clearly not alone, Manu can’t refrain from pressing a quick kiss against my temple.

“You are my number one,” Manu whispers in my ear, and then he’s gone.

  


The End


End file.
